Luke Skywalker is deep within meditation. The colors and sights of deep Force meditation assail him, as he plunges the depths of the energy-field that binds all life together, trying to find a course of action for the Jedi.
What are they supposed to do?
Where do defense and offense meet?
Where do they overlap?
And when does one become the other?
All of the problems which have been plaguing him since the start of the war. He can feel frustration beginning to seep in, and his thoughts switch, going from his concerns over the course of the war, to the problems with his wife’s pregnancy.
Tahiri!
Luke’s eyes pop opens, shunted from his meditations by a wave of grief and rage. He leans forward trying to catch his breath and then glances towards the Jedi Master sitting opposite from him. Kam’s eyes are open as wide as his own, but whether it is surprise at Luke’s sudden expulsion from a meditative state or because he felt the disturbance as well, Luke does not know.
“What is it Master?”
Luke frowns, and bows his head, cradling it in his hands. “Pain. Suffering. Death.”
“Who?”
“Tahiri and Anakin.” Luke scrubs his face with his hand and then stands up. A weight slamming against his shoulders. He glances at Kam once as he begins walking towards the far exit. “Find out where Corran is for me.”
“Yes Master.” Kam quickly gets up from where he sat across from Luke, and leaves the room.
Luke squeezes the bridge of his nose; feeling the darkness gather around him, around his family even tighter than it had been before. Brushing away the tears that had gathered in his eyes, he finally walks out of the room. He sighs, wondering why his family must suffer this way. Why do his students?
Then he remembers; it is because they are Jedi.
He gasps out loud again and stumbles as he clutches at his chest; a sharp phantom pain spiking through his heart, and grief and rage and hate roll through him, suffocating him. A second later, a wave of darkness swarms up over him, threatening his grip on consciousness.
After a moment, the tide of darkness rolls back, leaving Luke panting hard. He closes his eyes, touching the Force, allowing it to wash away the pain. He opens his eyes, and schools his features, displaying a false face to hide the pain and misery which he so clearly feels within the Force.
Once he has collected himself, he continues down the corridor. Quietly he enters the cabin he shares with Mara, seeing her lying on the bed, her arm draped over her eyes.
He sits on the bed beside her, and touches her arm gently, almost reverently.
Gone is hope.
He frowns, wondering where that thought came from, as Mara moves the arm from her face, her eyes glistening in the dim light with tears, even as they slowly travel down her face. With a flick of his finger Luke brushes some of them away. “You feel it to?”
She nods. “Yes. Anakin is in pain.”
Luke looks away from her, his eyes traveling the walls. “It’s worse – I don’t feel Tahiri.”
Mara winces slightly. “That could explain the pain.”
Mara sits up, wincing once again. She gives a quick glance at the chrono. “Come on Farmboy; help me to the med-center for my checkup.”
He helps her to a standing position, and arm-in-arm they walk slowly and carefully to the med-center. As Mara lays down on one of the beds, Valin and Clighal walk into the room, chatting about something. Cilghal rolls one of her eyes to look at Mara and smiles and turns her head to focus on both of the Jedi Masters. “How are you feeling today Mara?”
Luke turns from Cilghal to look at Mara, and allows a smile to flicker across his face as he catches her absent-mindedly rubbing her swollen belly. Mara catches his smile, and answers with one of her own. “Watch it farmboy.”
At that moment, Luke’s comlink chirps. Luke flicks on the device. “Skywalker, go ahead.”
“Luke, Kam, apparently Corran, Tahiri and Anakin went to Eriadu. They took the Lucre but aren’t responding to hails.”
“Thanks Kam, keep trying to get a hold of them.”
Luke turns back to Mara, frowning at how ashen and gray her face appears. He tunes out the whispered conversation between the healer and his wife, and delves into the Force once again. He probes the Force for the cause of Anakin’s pain, Tahiri, an answer to his wife’s ailments, and the direction for the Jedi in this war.
Opening his eyes, he sighs as once more he is given no answer.
He steps closer to Mara’s bed, and looks to Cilghal. “How is she – and the baby?”
One of Cilghal’s eyes turns towards him. “The baby is still healthy, and we are working at bolstering Mara’s strength.”
Luke nods his head, and opens his mouth to say something else, and at that moment, Valin screams.
Luke turns towards the young apprentice, and sees him kneeling on the ground, holding his head in his hands.
“Valin!”
The teen looks up at Luke, tears streaming down his face. “D-d-dad. My d-dad is d-d-dead.” Then he lowers his head once again, as the sobs rack his body.
Luke glances at Cilghal. “Call Mirax here.”
Then he kneels beside Valin, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder, sending comfort through the Force. “Valin, can you tell me what happened?”
Valin’s body shakes once more and he replies without looking up, “I felt a surge of pain run through him, and then he faded from the Force.” Valin looks up at Luke, tears streaming from his eyes. “I can’t feel him anymore.”
Luke wraps his arm around the boy, as they wait for Mirax to arrive. A few minutes later, Mirax enters the room at a run, in her arms she holds Jysella, and the three year old little girl is screaming and crying as well.
She sees Luke, and her face drops even further. “What’s wrong?”
Luke looks up from Valin to Mirax. “I’m so sorry Mirax, its Corran.”
----------------------------
Nen Yim suppresses the urge to bite her lips as she watches the villip, listens to what the speaker says. “You do not need that knowledge Adept Yim. Obey the protocols you have access to. I do not wish to speak to you again; you have brought enough shame down upon our domain.”
She bows her head, her headdress shifting to signify her obedience. “I understand Master.”
The villip inverts, and Nen Yim sighs, slumping onto the stool biot next to her work area. She glares at the villip, wondering how she is to save the people of the Baanu Miir. As she watches it, it shudders, asking to be activated. She caresses the villip and it inverts, rolling back and away to reveal the face of the Master she had just been talking to.
Without waiting for a greeting, he begins talking. “I have reconsidered. The taint of heresy surrounds you, and I do not think it wise of us to leave you on the Baanu Miir without supervision. A Master will be there soon.”
With an effort of will, she keeps the horror from her face. “I do not believe that is necessary, if you would just send me th-”
“Enough!” His loud voice cuts her off in mid sentence, and Nen Yim bows her head once more. “I have made my decision; the Master Shaper is already on his way. He will be there within a week.”
The villip inverts before Nen Yim can utter a reply and her headdress twists in horror as she stares at the closed villip. She looks around the room, as she considers the words the Master of her domain had just told her.
A Master Shaper is to arrive here on the Baanu Miir within the week.
She glances once more around her personal quarters, knowing without doubt that her heresy will be revealed by whoever is sent. It cannot be hidden. Every task her and the initiates have performed since her arrival has been tainted by heresy.
The door releases the admittance request pheromone, and Nen Yim walks over and presses her hand against the nerve cluster, allowing the entrance to open. Her initiate is standing there, and he genuflects, a mixture of a bow and a twist of the headdress. She admits him to her quarters, gesturing with her shaper’s hand.
“What are your orders, Adept?”
She rubs the hand across her chin, sensor probes picking up the taste and smells of fear and nervousness that still clings to her skin, and she quickly drops her hand.
“A Master is arriving soon, but for now we shall continue on as usual, and attempt to stop the death of the various parts of the Baanu Miir.”
The Initiate bows once more. “I obey Adept.”
Then he is gone, and Nen Yim is once more left alone to her thoughts and fears. She sighs, and opens up her personal qahsa, delving into her experiments, her notes on a process of advancing knowledge in a reproducible way.
She has less than a week to figure out a way to stop the death of the Baanu Miir and to hide her heresy where a Master cannot find it.
-----------------------------------------------
Jaina exits hyperspace, and sees a small ice planetoid directly in front of her. She frowns at her screen, the tracking beacon telling her that Kyp is there. Shrugging her shoulders, she closes and sees a landing beacon light up. She hesitates, wondering if she should land.
Her comm crackles, the voice that comes out is harsh and unforgiving. “Land.”
Startled she glances down, but only hears static. Her nose twists slightly as she makes a decision, and heads towards the beacon. As she nears, a crack appears in the ice, it is an entrance to an underground hanger. She directs her craft in, and lands on a clear patch of ice. She glances back at the entrance and notices that it has closed behind her.
She looks around, seeing if she recognizes anyone, especially if Kyp Durron is around. She sees him stride confidently from one of the doors, and quickly finishes her post-flight checklist. By the time she’s done, he’s standing beneath her ship, looking up at her expectantly. She breaks the seal on the cockpit, and pushes the canopy up, and then she jumps down, landing at a crouch next to the Jedi Master.
As she stands, he smiles at her, a warm, happy smile which manages to give her flutters and somehow simultaneously makes her sick to the stomach.
“Hello Jaina, this is a pleasant surprise.”
She looks at him through half-lidded eyes, one eyebrow quirks slightly as a ghost of a smile begins to play on her lips. “You mean the great Kyp Durron isn’t omniscient?”
Kyp laughs. “I’m only omniscient until you show up Princess. Then everything I know gets thrown in the ‘fresher.”
The smile which was threatening to appear on her face is quickly replaced by a scowl. “Don’t call me ‘Princess’ Durron, I’m not your Princess.”
Kyp raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She opens her mouth to reply when pain stabs deep into her heart. Her hands grasp her head as the Force floods with dark emotions. Pain. Misery. Grief. Anger.
She feels an arm lay on her shoulder, and she casts out to her family through the Force, trying to find the source of the anguish and pain. She feels the coldness of the floor beneath her knees, and has a moment to wonder when she dropped to kneel, before another wave of anger and grief washes over her.
She touches Anakin in the Force, and lets out a short yelp of surprise as she is slammed with overwhelming darkness.
“Anakin! No!”
She grabs onto the arm which rests on her shoulder, levering herself hard against the surprised Jedi Master, who stumbles back slightly under her grasp.
The word “No!” rips from her throat, a harsh surprised yell attracting the attention of everyone in the hanger.
Before the echoes can die away, she is lost to unconsciousness.
----------------------------------------------------
Leia finds her eldest son, in the same place he has been for the past three days. She walks up to the E-Wing, and sees Jacen’s boots sticking out from underneath the wing, as he performs routine maintenance and upgrades its shields and weapons systems. While he is not nearly the mechanic that either of his siblings is, he is more than equal to do those tasks.
She sighs to herself, fearing for the gulf between Han and Jacen. Knowing that father or son of them truly understands the other, though both are more alike than either is willing to admit. After all since their return to the Maw, neither has spoken to the other, and both are acting like sullen toddlers.
The sound of her booted feet on the deck causes him to look out from underneath the ship, and he sees the white hem of one of the dresses she favors. Sliding out form underneath the ship, he sees his mother standing there, her arms crossed over her chest, and inscrutable expression on her face.
“You know your dad loves you right?”
Jacen smiles slightly. “I know.”
“He just doesn’t understand you.”
“I know that too.”
“The fight the other day is really hurting him.”
Jacen sighs, and stands up. “Believe it or not, I really do know all of this. I understand.”
“So are you leaving?”
Jacen shakes his head. “No, I’m staying. I signed up to help the two of you, and I can understand what Dad was saying the other day.”
Leia’s face breaks out into a smile. “I was hoping you would say that.”
Jacen lets a grin, one oddly reminiscent of his father’s, slide onto his face. “I know.”
As his mother opens her mouth to reply, they can both feel pain stab into their hearts, a general darkening of the Force as someone close to both of them grapples with anger and hate. Jacen drops to his knees under the onslaught of misery, and retches, while Leia stumbles and leans against the E-wing tears streaming down her face.
Through the pain and misery, Jacen is able to say two words, “Anakin….no.”
